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Mt. Vernon Republican (Mount Vernon, Ohio : 1854), 1855-07-31

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X r r . - - , , v" ",1 If il v . 1 4f t&S&rftf 'ill 'iT" 3;;- jTICE Southwest end ) ' remlia Blook, 2d Floor, j IF A FREE TnOUGHT SEEK EXPRESSION,- SPEAK IT BOLDLY SPEAK IT ALL." ' ' ( TZU3I3-t3 00 per lamia. if pld la Advanc. VOL.1 MOUNT VERNON, OHIO, TUESDAY MORNING, JULY 31, 1855. NO. 37. , 't THE PUT VERM REPUBLICAN . . I . i II TUDLHIIID EVERY TUESDAY MOUNING, KIM . ' 'Republican Printing Company, " Incorporated under th General Law, TERMS. In Advance $!i,0U: within six months, 12,25 ; after the expiration of aix . month. 2.50: after the end of the rear, 13 00 Subscriber 'jn town, receiving their paper by earner, will be charged rift cents addi tional. ' r !- -v ' Oluba often, $1,75 to be paid invariably in advance. . ".-.V ' All communication for the paper and bul net letter should be addressed to TUO. F-WITHROW, Secretary of the Republican Printing Co, Selected poctrg. T rTb.a New Mown Hay! " BT FABX BSNJAMIN. Talk not to me of Southern bowers, Of odors breathed from tropic flowers, , Of epice-trees after rain j But of those sweet that freely flow When ie's fond breece stir the low Gras , .leaped upon the plain. This morning stood the verdant spear All wet with diamond dow the tears By Night orenely shed ; This evening, like an army lain, They number the pacifie plain With ihisir fast lading dead. And where they foil, and all around Such perfumes in the air abound As if long hidden hive Of sudden richness were unsealed, When on the freshly-trodden field Tbey yielded up their lives. In idle mood 1 love to pass These ruins of the crowded grass, , Or listlessly to lie, Inhaling the delicious scents " Crushed from these downcast, vcrduous tents, Beneath a sunset sky. It is a pure delight, which they Who dwell in cities, far away From rural scenes so fair, Can never know in lighted rooms, Pervaded by exotic bloom, This taste of natural air ! This air, softened by the breath Exhaled and waited -from ihe death Of herbs that simply tlooin, And, scarcely noted, like the best Dear friends, with whom the world is blest, Await the common doom, And leave behind snch sweet regret, As in our hearts is living yet, Though heroes pass away. Talk not to me of southern bowers, Or odors breathed from tropic flowers, But of the new-mown hay. , Innocent Child and Snow-White Flower. MM BT WUL1AV OULLIK BEYANT. Innocent child and snow-white flower ! .Well aro you paired in your opuuuig hour ; Thus should the pure and lovely meet, Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet. White an those leaves just blown apart, Are the folds of thy young heart ; Ouilly passion and caukering care, Never have left their traces there. Artless one I though thou gaiest now O'er the white blossom with earnest brow, Soon will it tire thy childish eye, Fair as it is, thou wilt throw it by. Throw it aside in thy weary hour. Throw to the ground the snow-white flower ; Yet as thy tender years depart, Keep that white and innocent heart. Btkti ittisrellanji. Smuggled Relations When I was a child, I remember to have had my ears boxed for informing a1!1"5 lbI:c'oth.) nd "o day I would 4k . IIs., hear of him as being among scarlet parrots lady-visitor who made a morning call at our house, that a certain ornamental object on the table, which was covered with marble paper, " wasn't marble." Years of reflection upon this injury have fully satisfied me that the honest object in question never imposed upon anybody ; further, that my honored parents, though both of a sanguine temperament, ' never can have conceived it possible that it might, eould, should, would, or did impose upon anybody. Yet, I have no doubt that I had my ears boxed for violating a tacit compact in the family and anions the familv . .. " . - i marble paper, and agree upon a fiction of real marble.1 Long after this, when my ears bad been past boxing for a quarter of a century, I j knew a man with a cork leg. Tbat he had a cork leg or, at all events, that he was at immense pains to take about with him a leg which was not his own leg, or a real leg was so plain and obvious a circumstance, that the whole universe might have made affidavit of it. . Siill, it was al ways understood that this cork leg waj-to be regarded as a leg ot nesh and blood, and even that the very subject of cork in the abstract was to be avoided in the wearer a society, I have had my share of going about the i world ; 'wherever , I have been, I have found the marble paper and the cork lee. I have found them in many forms, but, of . all their f rotean shapes, at once the com monest and strangest has been Smuggled Relations. .:. " . I was on intimate term for many, many . . t. 1... i , . i . ' i years, wim my iaie lamentea inena, cogsford, of (he great Greek house of Cogsford Brothers and Cogsford. I, was his executor. 1 believe he had no secret from me but one his mother. That the airreesble old lady who kept hi house for him was his mother, must be his mother, couldn't poMibly be anybody but hi mother, was evident ; not to me alone, but to everybody who knew him. Bhe was nof a refuge, she was not proscribed, she was not in hidng, there was no price put anon her able bead i she Was Invariably liked ' iiid respected as a good-humored, sensible, sheerful old soul. Then why did Cogsford mr.gjzle his mother all the days of his life T I have not the slightest Idea why. I eannot so much as aay whether she had ever contracted a second marriage, and her name was really Mrs.' Bean ; . or whether that name was bestowed upon her as a part of the smuggling transaction. I only know tbat there she nsed to sit at on end of lb hospitable table, the living visitors, to Olink the stubborn factor ine!"s'" muggien wine ana oranay image In a cap of Cogsford at the other end, and that Cogcfora knew that I knew who ahe was. : Yet, if I had been a Cm torn House officer at Folkestone, and Mrs. Bean a French clock that Cogsford wae furtively bringing from Paris in a bat-box, he could not have made her the subject ef a more determined and deliberate pretence. It was prolonged for years upon years. It survived the Rood old lady her self. One day I received an agitated note from Cogsford, entreating me to go to him immediately ; I went, and found him weep ing, and in the greatest aultction. " My dear friend," said he, .pressing my hand, ' 1 nave lost Mrs, Bean, bhe is no more. I went to the funeral with him. He was in the deepest grief. He spoke of Mrs. Bean on the way back, as the best of wo men. But even then be never hinted that Mrs. Bean was his mother ; and the first and last acknowledg nent of the fact that I ever had from him was in his last will, wherein he entreated " his said dear friend and executor" to observe that he request ed to be buried beside his mother whom he didn't even name, he was so perfectly confident that I had detected Mrs. Bean. I was once acquainted with another man who smuggled a brother. This contraband relative made mysterious appearances and disappearances, and knew strange things. He was called John sim ply Juhn. 1 have got into a habit of be lieving that he must have been under a penalty to forfeit some weekly allowance if be ever claimed a surname. He came to light in this way : I wanted some information respecting the remotest of the Himalaya range of mountains, and I ap plied to my friend Benting (a member of the tieographical Society, and learned on such points) to advise me. After some consideration, Benting said, in a half re luctant and constrained way, very unlike his usual Hank manner, that " he thought be knew a man" who could tell me, of bis own experience, what I wanted to learn. An appointment was made for a certain evening at Beating's house. I arrived first, and had not observed for moro than five minutes that Benting was under a cu rious cloud, when his servant announced in a hushed, and I may say unearthly manner " Mr. John." A rather sti J and shabby person appeared, who called Bent ing by no name whatever, (a Singularity that 1 always observed whenever 1 saw them together afterwards,) and whose manner was curiously divided between familiarity and distance. I found this man to have been all over the Indies, and to possess an extraordinary fund of travel er s experience. It came from him dnlv at firsb; but he warmed, and it flowed freely until he happened to meet Benting's eye. Then, ne subsided again, and (it ap peared to me, ) felt lumselt, for some ua known reason, In danger of losing that weekly allowance. Tuis happened a do zen of times in a couple of hours, and not the least curious part of the matter was, that Benting himself was always as much disconcerted as the other man. It did not occur to me that night, that this was Benting's brother, for I had known him very well for years, and had always understood him to have none. Neither can I now recall, nor, if I could, would it matter, by what degrees and stages I arrived at the knowledge. However this may be, I knew it. But we always preserved the fiction that I could have no suspicion that there was any sort of kindred or affinity between them. He went to Mexico, this John and he went to Australia and he went to China and he died somewhere in Persia and one day; when we went down to dinner at Benting's I would find him in the dining-room, already seated, (as if he had just been counting the allowance on in the tropica ; but I never knew whether he had ever done anything wrong, or whether he had ever done anything right, or why he went about the world, or how. As I have already signified, I get into habits of believing ; and I have got into A habit of believing that Mr. John had something to do with the dip of the magnetic needle he is all vague and shadowy to me, however, and I oniy know him for certain to have been a smuggled relation. Other people, again, put these contraband commodities entirely away from the i: i -f " - j i. bury tubs. 1 have heard of a man who never imparted, to his most intimate friend, the terrific secret tbat he had a relation in the world, exoept when he lost one by death ; and then he would be weighed down by the greatness of the calamity, and would refer to bis bereavement as if he had lost the very shadow of himself, from whom he had never been separated since the days of infancy Within my experience, I have observed smuggled relations to possess a wonderful quality of coming out when they die. My own dear Tom, who married my fourth sister, and who is a great smuggler, never fails to speak to me of one of his relations newly deceased, as though, instead of never having in the remotest way alluded to tbat relative s existence before, he had been perpetually discoursing of it. , "My poor, dear, darling Emmy," he said' to me, within these six months, "she is gone I have lost her." Never until that moment had Tom breathed one syllable to me of the existence of any Emmy whomsoever, on the face of this earth, in whom he had the smallest interest.' -He had scarcely allowed me to understand, very distinctly and generally, that he had some relations" people" he called 4hem down in Yorkshire. " My own dear, darling Emmy," says Tom, not withstanding, ' she has left me for a bet ter world." (Tom must have left her for bis own world, at least fifteen Years.) repeated, feeling my way, " Emmy, Tom?" " My favorite niece," said Tom, in a re proachful tone, "Emmy yon know. I was ber godfather, you remember. Darling, fair-haired Emmy I ' Pieoious, blue-eyed child I" Tom burst into tears, and we both tnderstood that henceforth the fiction was established between us, I that bad been quite familiar with Emmy, by reputation, through a series of years. - ' Oocisionally, smuggled relations are discovered by accident; jrtst as those tube may be, to which I have referred. My Other li!f--I mean, of eonrse, my wife - V once discovered a large cargo in this way, wbioh had been long concealed.' , In the next street to us, lived an acquaintance of ours, who was a Commissioner of something or other, and kept a handsome establishment. We used to exchange dinners, and I have frequently heard him at bis own table mention his father as a " poor, good, old boy," who had been dead for any indefinite period. He was rather fond of telling anecdotes of his very early days, and from them it appeared he was an only child. One summer afternoon, my other half, walking in our immediate neighborhood, happened to perceive Mrs. Commissioner's last year's bonnet, (to every inch of which, it is unnecessary to add, she could have sworn,) going along before her on somebody else's bead. Having heard generally of the swell mob, my good lady's first impression waa, that the wearer of this bonnet, belong to that fraternity," had just abstracted the bonnet from its place of repose, was in every sense of the term walk ing off with it, and ought to be given into the custody of the nearest policeman. Fortunately, however, my Susannah, who is not distinguished by closeness of reason ing or presence of mind, reflected, as it were by a flash of inspiration, that the bonnet might have been given away. Curious to see to whom, she quickened her steps, and descried beneath it, an ancient lady of an iron-bound presence, in whom (for my Susannah has an eye) she instantly recognised the lineaments of the Commissioner 1 Eagerly pursuing this discovery, she, that very alternoon, tracked down an ancient gentleman in one of the Commissioner's hats. Next day she came upon the trail of our stony maidens, decorated with artifi cial flowers out of the Commissioner's epergue ; and thus we dug up the Commissioner's father and mother and four sisters, who had been for some years secreted in lodgings round the corner, and never en tered the Commissioner s house save in the 'dawn of morning and the shades of evening, t torn that time forth, whenever my Susannah made a call at the Commissioner's, she always listened on the door step for any slight preliminary scuffling in the ball, and, bearing it, was delighted to remark, " The family are here, and they are hiding them 1" I have never been personally acquainted with any gentleman who kept his mother- in-law in the kitchen, in the useful capacity of cook ; but I have heard of such a case on good authority. I once lodged in the house of a genteel lady claiming to be a widow, who had four pretty children, and might occasionally be heard coercing an obscure man in a sleeved waistcoat, who appeared to be confined in some pit below the foundations of the house, where he was condemned always to be cleaningknives. One day, the smallest of the children crept into my room, said, pointing downward with a chubby finger, " Don't tell I It's Pdkl" and vanished on tiptoe. One other branch of the smuggling trade demands a word ot mention before i con' elude. My friend of friends in my bache lor days, became the friend of the house when I got married. He is our Amelia s godfather ; Amelia being the eldest of our cherubs. Through upwards of ten years he was backwards and forwards at our house three or four times a week, and al ways found his knife and fork ready for him. What was my astonishment on coming home one day to find Susannah sunk upon the oil-cloth in the hall, holding her brow with both hands, and my gaze, when I admitted myself with my latch-key, in a distracted manner, "Susannah," I exclaimed, " what has has happened ?" She merely ejaculated, "Larver" that being the name of the friend in question. " Susannah I" said I, " what of Larver ? Speak I Has he met with any accident ? Is he ill?" Susannah replied faintly, " Married married before we were I" and would have gone into hysterics, but that I make a rule of never permitting that disorder under my roof. For upwards of ten years, my bosom friend Larver, in close communication with me every day, had smuggled a wife ? He had at last confided the truth to Susannah, anl presented Mrs. Larver. There was no kind of reason for this, that we could ever find cut. Even Susannah had not a doubt of things being all correct. He had "run" Mrs. Larver into a little cottage in Hertfordshire, and nobody ever knew why, or ever will know. In fact, I believe there was no why in it. -1 The most astonishing part of the matter is, that I have known other men do exaolly the same thing. I could give the names of a dozen in a footnote, if 1 thought it right. Household Wordt. To trb PotHT. We have never seen scriptural quotations more aptly applied than in the following dialogue, which took place at the table of Bishop Doane : It is stated that Bishop Doane, of New-Jersey, is strongly opposed to Temperance. A short time since, Rev. Mr. Perkins, of the same denomination, and a member of the " Sons," dined with the Bishop, who, poarinor out a glass of wine, desired the Reverend gentlemau to drink with him, whereupon he replied : . " Can't do it, Bishop, wine is a mocker." " Take a glass of brandy, then," said the distinguished ecclesiastic . - " Can't do it, Bishop, strong drink' is raging.": . By this time the Bishop, becoming somewhat restive and excited, said to Mr. Perkins:. . ;....., You'll pass the decanter to the gentleman next to you." " No, Bishop, I can't do that, wot unto him that putteth the bottle to hit neighbor's lips." , , What was the peculiar mental condition or moral state of the Bishop at this stage of the proceedings our informant did not state. . . .. i i We no longer give credit to our American brethren for attaching no importanoe to name, for they have selected as one of their ambassadors an individual who has been evidently chosen because his name clearly represents the exact idea of diplomacy. America can never echo the inquiry " Wbat'a in a name?" without being liable to be reminded that the sent to Spain at a diplomatist no other than General Dddga.-iincA. A flucoeiaful Merchant's Experienoe. A communication in the Country Gentleman hat a word in season for these young men who hanker after tickets in the great lottery of mercantile life : " I am a city merohant, having commenced my career as an adventurer from the farm, on a salary of $80 per year, and having pussed through half a life time of incessant toil to reach the poiut where dependence ceases, and ' dinner ahead' begins. I filled clerkships in several first class mercantile houses, and was associated with a very considerable number of salesmen, accountants, and clerks generally. Near thirty years have passed since my city clerkship began, and retrospect has developed the following results : " All the mercantile houses by whom I was employed have since failed one, after an eminently creditable career of fifteen years, was carried into hopelessbankruptcy- by outside speculation, and another, after thirty-five years of undoubted success and credit, was, a few months since, involved in inextricable difficulties the results of a single dash of the pen and nas torever closed us mercantile existence " Of all the clerks with whom I have been associated, not one has achieved per' manent success equal to the value of t well-stocked 100 acre farm, while from the most brilliant of their number, the peniten tiary, the hospital, and the drunkard's grave, have claimed their victims. Some embarked in business with lofty anticipa lions ot success, Dut toon passed away in ster, and the career of not a few would fill thrillingly illustrated chapters in the unwritten history of city merchant a clerks, and prove beyond question, tbat ' Vice is a monster of such frightful mien, That to be hated, need but to be seen ; But seen too oft, familiar with its face,' We first endure, then pity, then embrace.' " Some sanguine youth may ask where the successful men originate 7 I answer. they are the one in one hundred of those who embark in business, and the one in several hundreds of those who seek clerk ships, with bright anticipations of fortune in prospect. " Personally, by a rare combination of favorable circumstances, those 'wonder flowers that bloom but once in a life-time,' i am meeting wuu wnat is called success. The way to it was paved by years of in cessant labor, of sixteen to eighteen hours per day, and such days and nights of toil as no farmer's man or boy that I have met with ever dreamed of in his rural labors, and which if applied to the cultivation of a 100 acre farm, would have developed hid den treasures not dreamed of by the re' luctant plowman. " Uut as years pass, and develop, along with the vanities of life, the gray hairs wnica are auiauug upon me, my tnougnts often revert to the home scenes of my childhood in .the country, and I feel tempt- eu to snaae oninis artificial me, and seek for my declining years that repose and quiet which I imagine might be found in rural life, among an intelligent and open-hearted population, devoted to agriculture ; and secure to ray family those health-giving influences, both mutual and physical, which cheerful country life must supply to genial minds." " Don't Spkak so Cross 1"" Don't speak so cross," said one little boy yesterday in the street to another. " Don't speak so cross, there's no use in it." We happened to be passing at the time, and hearing the injunction, or rather exhortation, for it was made in a hortatory manner, we set the juvenile speaker down as an embryo philosopher. In sooth, touching the point involved in the boyish difficulty which made occasion for the remark, he might be considered at maturity. What more could Solomon have said on the occasion ? True, he has put it on record that " a soft answer turneth away wrath," and this being taken as true, and everybody knows it to be so it is evidence in favor of the superiority of the law of kindness over that of wrath. But our young street philosopher said pretty much the same thing substantially, when he said, " Don't speak so cross there's no use in it." On the contrary, itinvariably does much harm. Is a man angry ? it inflames his ire still rdore, and confirms in his enmity him who by a kind word and a gentle and pleasing demeanor might be converted into a friend. It is in fact an addition of fuel to the fhme already kindled. And what do you gain by it? Nothing desirable, certainly, unless discord, strife, contention, haired, malice, and all uncharitableness, be desirable. The boy Bpake the " words of truth and soberness," when he said, " Don't speak so cross there s no use in it. Taa Wit it was Doni. The ease with which Governments become possessed of the secret movements of conspirators and revolutionists, is illustrated by the late abortive Cuban expedition. The N. Y. Btrall, in referring to this subject, relates the following: , " A spy was appointed by the Administration to ferret out the plot. He came to New-York ha worked himself, like a first rate ' confidence man,' into the secrets of the Junta he became a member of the " Lone Star ;" and, with this card of admission, he proceeded to the affiilia-ted Creoles in Cuba, obtained all the information he desired, and thence returning to Washington he disclosed everything to the Government. Marcy, at in duty bound, thereupon invited the Spanish Minister to dinner, and told bim all he knew, if not more, over the cake and wine at the end of the feast. The Spanish Minister, of course, lost no time in apprising Gen. Concha of these important disclosures. The bloody executions which followed, and the complete dispersion of the conspirators, tell the rest of the story. E9" A preacher in no matter where- observed, one day, that a striking proof of the wisdom and benevolence of frovidenoe was given in plaoing death at the end of life thus giving one time for preparation. Thit was almost as profound a remark as that of another person, who thought " it was lucky that Sunday was placed at the end of the week, instead of in the middle, whiob, would have made iroien trw There! Hero! Yonder! BT M. LOUISA 0HITWO0O. There! Back again ! Years have 'shrunken away into nothing but a misty f J T T I- At . ' arenm. id is oununy jnoraing in may,- All the orchards are snowy with bloom, all the dells blue with violets, all the meadows yellow with buttercups. Thrushes, and robins, and larks are singing, and all the blue waves of ether seem tremulous with song. And my heart, ab, it is singing also, life is so good, so blessed a boon. The church bell commences ringing. Out on the highway, from all the homes tbat are nestled away in the pleasant country, come the neighbors.fand turn their faces toward the old church, for 4 new minister is come, and all are anxious to be present. I am not thinltino muah of .thn'mVnniTnr' . 0 , v. the preacher, but as I open the gate and walk down the green lane, I keep thinking to myself, " Nelly will be there, I shall see Nelly." That is it. That is why the wodd looks so gloriously this bright morning. That is why my heart throbs a music, a rapture that only boyhood can feel, o to be a man I To go forth into the wide world and win a name and wealth, and then come back and marry Nelly. Yes, Nelly, the very little girl that goes to school with me every dav. To have a dear home, and her for a little wife ; and then I wonder dreamily how she will look with sober dresses and curls put back, and a subdued smile upon her darling face, and a de p tenderness in her voice, unlike its merry childhood flow, but oh I so very, very sweet. To have her the best and most beautiful being in the world her love ; to have her think of me when away, and smile at my return, to sing to me, read to me, lean her velvet cheek agaiust my own, let her golden-brown curls float upon my shoulder, with no cross school-teacher to frown her away, no lynx-eyed school-girls to tease, no omnipresent chums to haunt our every step, and telegraph the exchange of every look or smile, or rosebud, or strawberry, or rosy peach, or violet plum, or luscious golden apple, or cluster of blue grapes sweetened by frost kisses ; but to have a right to protect her, and love her, and be by her side always ; oh I what an Eden, what rapture in the dretm. So I keep thinking, and planning, and picturing, until I get to the church door and hear the singing of a sweet hymn. I pause a moment, and then enter and seat myself, ah I I know where. The pew just opposite her. There she is, ber little straw bonnet, with its fresh blue ribbons, her golden hair clustering on her neck, her large eyes bent upon the little Bible in her hands. There she is in her plain white dress, its short sleeves looped up with rosebuds, and her little hands resting about that Bible. Thftt is Nelly that I am going to marry 1 O to be a man, to win sweet Nelly. Time flies too slowly ; weary years, will ye never pass 7 Here 1 Locks mixed with gray I Early friends gone ; early hopes perishing as dewdrops ; early years living only in mem ory. Wealth mine, but it brings no balm ; fame, but its laurels are nettles ; a home, but no neace brooding over its costlv cham bers, i A marriage vow spoken, but its ties more galling than chains ; hands united, but. hearts estranged, divorced. Sons to whom their father's wealth is ruin, who bring sorrow and disgrace to home and hearth ; daughters whose hearts are moth-eaten and corrupted, poisoned by fashion and folly. Is it so, or do I dream ? Is the old homestead fallen, its walls crumbled ? Is Nelly dead ? Has the slept in the country churchyard so many years ? Have the grasses, brightened and browned upon her breast so long ? Are those lips dust, those brown locks crumbled to clay ? Yes, it is true. The stone at her head is moss-grown. Her lit' la sister, " baby Mary," as we used to call her, has fair daughters and sons of her own grown up to manhood and womanhood. In that old church was Nelly's funeral preached. Just by the pulpit ber plain eomn rested. Down the broad aisle, and through the western door was she carried upon the crape-tied bier. Close by the aspen tree she was buried. Sweet, dear Nelly ; life was ne-1 ver dark for her.' The angela called her to a better home than I could have made her. The long golden-brown curl she gave me at parting has grown stiff and dusty. 1 was looking upon it yesterday, and it slipped through my fingers and fell right into the sunshine. The light that rested upon it was full and radiant, aud its brightness was almost dazzling. I wonder do her tresses shine so up yonder ? Yonder I Ureen pastures and peaceful waters. O, Nelly, would that I too had gone home early I But years glide away ; life is shorter, the grave nearer. Tie after lie unloosens ; hope after hope grows away from earth and fastens itself toneaven. I shall soon be yonder I Oeniut of th Witt. Torjcatso Seine. The following is certainly the most touching moonlight scene we ever read : After whirling some time in the eestatic mazes of a delightful waltz, Caroline and myself stepped out unobserved, on to the balcony, to enjoy a few momenta of the solitude ao precious to lovers. It was a glorious night the air was cool and refreshing. As I gated on the beautiful being by my side, I thought 1 never saw her look so lovely ; one of her soft, fair hands, rested in mine, and ever and anon she met my ardent gaze with one of pure, confiding love. Suddenly a change came over her toft feature! j her full, red lip trembled at with tuppressed emotion ; tear-drops rested on ber long, drooping lashet ; the muscles around her faultless mouth became convulsed, she gasped for breath and snatching her hand from the toft pressure of my own, she turned suddenly away, buried her face in her fine cambric handkerchief, and amino. IT The Hotmet County Farmer man baa the following : '" ' " Pijuntsi Rxoitno." Hugging a blue eyed girl on a pile of freshly cut clover. Go wty, ttrswberri''', yoi have 21 grilling jfnefotut Cross eyed Hancy Hart. The following, from Mrs. Ellet't " Wo' men of the Revolution," will be read with Interest : In Elbert County, Georgia, is a stream formerly known aa War-woman'a Creek, Its name wat derived from the character of the woman who lived near the entrance of the stream into the river. This woman was Nancy Hart, a woman ignorant of letters and the civilities of life, but a zealous lover of " liberty boys,." as she called the whigs. She had a husband, whom she denominated a " poor stick," because he i-1 . . i . j .. .i . j , . i. uiu not mar b ueciucu aim hcuvu pan wuu the defenders of his country, although she could, not conscientiously charge lum-witb the least partiality towards the lories. This vulgar and illiterate, but hospitable and valorous female patriot, could boast of no share of beauty a fact she herself would have readily acknowledged, had she ever enjoyed an opportunity of looking in a mirror. Sue was cross-eyed, with broad angular mouth, ungainly in figure, rude in speech, and awkward in manners, but having a woman's heart for her friends, and that of a Catrine Monloar lor the ene mies of her country. She was well known to the tones, who stood in fear of her re venge for any grievance or aggressive act though they let pass no opportunity ol wor rying and annoying her, when they could do so with impunity. On the occasion of an excursion from the British camp at Augusta, a party of to nes penetrated into the interior, and ha v. ing savagely murdered Colonel Dooly, in bed, in his own house, they proceeded up the country for the purpose of committing further atrocities. (Jn their way, a de tachment of five of the party diverged to the east, and crossed Broad River, to make discoveries about the neighborhood, and pay a visit to their old acquaintance, Nan cy Mart. Un reaching ber cabin, they entered it unceremoniously, receiving from her no welcome but a scowl ; and informed her they had come to know the truth of a story current, respecting her, that she bad secreted a noted rebel trom a company of King s men, who were pursuing him, and who, but for her aid, would have caught and hung him. Nancy undoubtedly avow ed her agency in the fugitive's escape. she told them she had at brst beard the tramp of a horse rapidly approaching, aod had seen a horseman coming towards her cabin. As he came nearer, she knew him to be a whig, and flying from pursuit. She let down the bars, afew steps from her cabin, and motioned him to enter, to pass through both doors, front and rear, of her single-roomed bouse, take the swamp, and secure himself as well as he could. She then put up the bars, entered her cabin, closed the doors, and went about her business. Presently some tones rode up to the bars and called out boisterously to her. She muffled her head and face, and opening the door inquired why they disturbed a sick, lone woman. They said they had traced a man they wanted to catch, near her house, and asked if any one on horseback had passed that way. She answered no, but said she saw somebody on a sorrel horse turn out of the path into the woods some two or three hundred yards back. " That must be the fellow," said the lories ; and asking the direction as to the way he took, they turned about and went off. " Well fooled 1" said Nancy ; " in an opposite course to that of my whig boy ; when, if they had not been solofty-minded, but had looked on the gronnd inside of the bars, they would have seen his horse's track up to that door, as plain as you can see the tracks on this here floor, and out of t'other door down the path to the swamp." This bold story did not please the tory party, but they could not wreak their vengeance upon the woman who had unscrupulously avowed her daring aid to a rebel, and the cheat put upon his pursuers, oth erwise than by ordering her to aid and comfort them by giving them something to eat. She replied: "I never feed King's men if I can help it ; villains have put it out of my power to feed even my own fam ily and friends, by stealing and killing all my poultry and pigs, except that one old gobbler you see in the yard." " Well, and that you thall cook for us," said ono who appeared to be the head of the party ; and raising his musket he shot down the turkey, which another ot the men brought into the house and handed to Mrs. Hart, to clean and cook without delay. She stormed and ewore for Nancy occa sionally swore but seeming at lust to make a merit of neoeesuy, began with alacnty the arrangements for cooking, assisted by ber daughter, a little girl some ten or twelve years old, and sometimes by one of the soldiers, with whom she seemed in tol erable good humor, exchanging rude jests with him. The lories, pleased with her freedom, invited her to partake of the liq nor they had brought with them, an invi tation which was accepted with witty tbankt. The spring, of which every settlement had one near at hand, was just at the edge of the swamp, and within a short distance of it was a high and snaggy-topped stump, on which was placed a conch abell. The rude trumpet waa used by the family to give information, by means of a variation of notes, to Mr. Hart or his neighbors, who might be at work in a field just beyond the swamp, that " Britishers" or tories were about ; that the master was wanted at the Cabin, or that he was to keep close, or " make tracks" for another twamn. Pending the operation of cooking, Mrs. Hart bad tent ber daughter, Sukey, to the spring forwaier, with instructions to blow the eonch In tucb wty at would inform Mr. Hart that there were tories in tht eabin, and that he should "keep elote," with hit three neighbors who were with him, till he heard the eonch again. , t The party had become merry over their jug, and aat down to feast upon the gob bler, iney bad cautiously stacked tbeir arms where tbey were to view, and within reach, and Mrs. Hart, assiduous in her attention upon the table, and to ber gusU, occasionally passed betwoon iert, aH tir to contrived that Snkey waa again tent to the apricg, instructed by her mother to blow the ooneh m at to call up Mr. Hart and hit neighbor! immediately. Meanwhile, Mrt. Hart had slipped out one of the pieces of pine which constituted the "chinking" between the logs of the cabin, and had dexterously put out of the house, through the space, two of the five guns. She wat detected in the act of putting out tht third. The party sprang to tbeir feet. Quick aa thought, Mrt. Hart brought the piece the held to her shoulder, and declared she wo'd kill the first man who approached her. Ail were terror struck, for Nancy's obliquity of tight caused each one to suppose ber aim was at him. At length one of them made a motion to advance upon ber. True to ber threat, she fired. He fell dead upon the floor 1 Instantly seizing another muhtett'ishe brought, it to the position in readiness to fire again. By this time Sukey had returned from the spring, and taking up the remaining gun, carried it out of the house, saying to her mother, " Daddy and them will toon be here." Thit information increased the alarm of the lories, who understood the necessity of recover ing tbeir arms immediately, cut eacu hesitated, in the confident belief that Mrs. Hart had one eye at least upon bim for a mark. Tbey proposed a general rush. No time was to be lost by the bold woman; she fired again, and brought down another tory. Sukey had another musket in readiness, which her mother took, and posting herself in the door-way, called upon the party to " surrender their tory carcasses to a whig woman." They agreed to surrender, and proposed to "shake hands upon the strength of it ; but the conqueror kept them in tbeir places for a few moments, till her husband and hit neighbors came np to the door,- They were about to shoot down the tones, but Jure. Hart stobped them, saying they had sur rendered to ber, and her spirit being up to boiling beat, she swore that " shooting wat too good for them." This hint was enough. The dead men , were dragged out of the bouse, and the others were bound, taken out beyond the bars, and hung. The tree upon which they were hung was pointed out in 1838, by one who lived in those bloody times, and who also showed the spot once occupied by Mrs. Hart's cabin, accompanying the designation with the emphatic remark, " Poor Nancy -the was the honey of a patriot, but the devil of a wife." Importance of Thoroughness. Thoroughness thoroughness and again. I say thoroughness is the seeret of suc cess, xou beard some admirable remarks this morning from a gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Sears,) in which he told us that a child, in learning a single lesson, might get not only an idea of the subject matter of that lesson, but an idea how all lessons should be learned, a general idea, notonly how that subject should be studied. but how all subjects should be studied. A child, in compassing the simplest sub ject, may get an idea of perfectness whi:h is the type, or archetype, ot all excellence. and this idea may modiiy the action ot bit mind through his whole course of life. Be thorough, Cherefore, be complete-in everything you do ; leave no enemy in ambush behind you as you march on, to rise up in the rear and assail you. Leave no broken link in the chain you are daily forging. Perfect your work so that when it is subjected to the trials and experience of life it will not be found wanting. It was within the past year that l saw an account in the public papers of a terrible gale in one of the harbors of the Chinese seat. It was one of those typhoons, as they are called, which lay prostrate not only the productions of nature, but the structures of man. In this harbor was lying at anchor the vessels of all nations, and among them the United States sloop of war, Plymouth. Every vessel broke its cable but one. The tornado tossed them about, and dashed them against each other, and broke them like egg shells. Bat amidst this scene of destruction, our government vessel held fi . to its moorings, and escaped unharmed. Who made the links of that cable, that the strength of the tempest could not rend ? Who mads the links of that cable, that the tempest could not rend f Who was the workman, that worked under oath, and whose work saved property and human life from ruin, otherwise inevitable? Could that workman have beheld , that spectacle, and heard the raging of the elements, and seen the other vessels aa they were dashed to pieces, and scattered abroad, while the violence of tht tempest wreaked itself upon his own work, in vain, would he not have had the amplest and purest reward for the fidelity of bis labor ? So, in after periods of our existence, whether it be in this world, or from another world, from which you may be permitted to look back, you may see the consequences of your instruction r.pon the children whom you have trained. In the crisis of business life, where intellectual accuracy leads to immense good, and intellectual mistakes to immense loss, you may see yonr pupils distinguishing between error and truth, between false reasoning and sound reasoning, leading all who may rely upon them to correct retultt establishing tne highest reputation for themselves, and . for you at well aa themselves, and confer ring incalculable good upon the community. So, if you have been successful in your moral training, you will have prepared to stand unshaken and nnseduoed amidst temptation, firm where others are swept away, incorrupt where others are depraved, unconsumed where others art blasted and perished. You may be able to tay that, by the blessing of God, you have helped to do this . thing. And will not tuch a day be day of more exalted and sublime joy than if von eould have looked upoti the storm in the eastern test; and known that it it your handiwork that saved the vessel unharmed amid the wrecks that floated around it ? Would not such tight be a reward great and grand enough to satisfy and hit up any heart, mortal or immortal HORACE MANN. U 'rTo.tf

X r r . - - , , v" ",1 If il v . 1 4f t&S&rftf 'ill 'iT" 3;;- jTICE Southwest end ) ' remlia Blook, 2d Floor, j IF A FREE TnOUGHT SEEK EXPRESSION,- SPEAK IT BOLDLY SPEAK IT ALL." ' ' ( TZU3I3-t3 00 per lamia. if pld la Advanc. VOL.1 MOUNT VERNON, OHIO, TUESDAY MORNING, JULY 31, 1855. NO. 37. , 't THE PUT VERM REPUBLICAN . . I . i II TUDLHIIID EVERY TUESDAY MOUNING, KIM . ' 'Republican Printing Company, " Incorporated under th General Law, TERMS. In Advance $!i,0U: within six months, 12,25 ; after the expiration of aix . month. 2.50: after the end of the rear, 13 00 Subscriber 'jn town, receiving their paper by earner, will be charged rift cents addi tional. ' r !- -v ' Oluba often, $1,75 to be paid invariably in advance. . ".-.V ' All communication for the paper and bul net letter should be addressed to TUO. F-WITHROW, Secretary of the Republican Printing Co, Selected poctrg. T rTb.a New Mown Hay! " BT FABX BSNJAMIN. Talk not to me of Southern bowers, Of odors breathed from tropic flowers, , Of epice-trees after rain j But of those sweet that freely flow When ie's fond breece stir the low Gras , .leaped upon the plain. This morning stood the verdant spear All wet with diamond dow the tears By Night orenely shed ; This evening, like an army lain, They number the pacifie plain With ihisir fast lading dead. And where they foil, and all around Such perfumes in the air abound As if long hidden hive Of sudden richness were unsealed, When on the freshly-trodden field Tbey yielded up their lives. In idle mood 1 love to pass These ruins of the crowded grass, , Or listlessly to lie, Inhaling the delicious scents " Crushed from these downcast, vcrduous tents, Beneath a sunset sky. It is a pure delight, which they Who dwell in cities, far away From rural scenes so fair, Can never know in lighted rooms, Pervaded by exotic bloom, This taste of natural air ! This air, softened by the breath Exhaled and waited -from ihe death Of herbs that simply tlooin, And, scarcely noted, like the best Dear friends, with whom the world is blest, Await the common doom, And leave behind snch sweet regret, As in our hearts is living yet, Though heroes pass away. Talk not to me of southern bowers, Or odors breathed from tropic flowers, But of the new-mown hay. , Innocent Child and Snow-White Flower. MM BT WUL1AV OULLIK BEYANT. Innocent child and snow-white flower ! .Well aro you paired in your opuuuig hour ; Thus should the pure and lovely meet, Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet. White an those leaves just blown apart, Are the folds of thy young heart ; Ouilly passion and caukering care, Never have left their traces there. Artless one I though thou gaiest now O'er the white blossom with earnest brow, Soon will it tire thy childish eye, Fair as it is, thou wilt throw it by. Throw it aside in thy weary hour. Throw to the ground the snow-white flower ; Yet as thy tender years depart, Keep that white and innocent heart. Btkti ittisrellanji. Smuggled Relations When I was a child, I remember to have had my ears boxed for informing a1!1"5 lbI:c'oth.) nd "o day I would 4k . IIs., hear of him as being among scarlet parrots lady-visitor who made a morning call at our house, that a certain ornamental object on the table, which was covered with marble paper, " wasn't marble." Years of reflection upon this injury have fully satisfied me that the honest object in question never imposed upon anybody ; further, that my honored parents, though both of a sanguine temperament, ' never can have conceived it possible that it might, eould, should, would, or did impose upon anybody. Yet, I have no doubt that I had my ears boxed for violating a tacit compact in the family and anions the familv . .. " . - i marble paper, and agree upon a fiction of real marble.1 Long after this, when my ears bad been past boxing for a quarter of a century, I j knew a man with a cork leg. Tbat he had a cork leg or, at all events, that he was at immense pains to take about with him a leg which was not his own leg, or a real leg was so plain and obvious a circumstance, that the whole universe might have made affidavit of it. . Siill, it was al ways understood that this cork leg waj-to be regarded as a leg ot nesh and blood, and even that the very subject of cork in the abstract was to be avoided in the wearer a society, I have had my share of going about the i world ; 'wherever , I have been, I have found the marble paper and the cork lee. I have found them in many forms, but, of . all their f rotean shapes, at once the com monest and strangest has been Smuggled Relations. .:. " . I was on intimate term for many, many . . t. 1... i , . i . ' i years, wim my iaie lamentea inena, cogsford, of (he great Greek house of Cogsford Brothers and Cogsford. I, was his executor. 1 believe he had no secret from me but one his mother. That the airreesble old lady who kept hi house for him was his mother, must be his mother, couldn't poMibly be anybody but hi mother, was evident ; not to me alone, but to everybody who knew him. Bhe was nof a refuge, she was not proscribed, she was not in hidng, there was no price put anon her able bead i she Was Invariably liked ' iiid respected as a good-humored, sensible, sheerful old soul. Then why did Cogsford mr.gjzle his mother all the days of his life T I have not the slightest Idea why. I eannot so much as aay whether she had ever contracted a second marriage, and her name was really Mrs.' Bean ; . or whether that name was bestowed upon her as a part of the smuggling transaction. I only know tbat there she nsed to sit at on end of lb hospitable table, the living visitors, to Olink the stubborn factor ine!"s'" muggien wine ana oranay image In a cap of Cogsford at the other end, and that Cogcfora knew that I knew who ahe was. : Yet, if I had been a Cm torn House officer at Folkestone, and Mrs. Bean a French clock that Cogsford wae furtively bringing from Paris in a bat-box, he could not have made her the subject ef a more determined and deliberate pretence. It was prolonged for years upon years. It survived the Rood old lady her self. One day I received an agitated note from Cogsford, entreating me to go to him immediately ; I went, and found him weep ing, and in the greatest aultction. " My dear friend," said he, .pressing my hand, ' 1 nave lost Mrs, Bean, bhe is no more. I went to the funeral with him. He was in the deepest grief. He spoke of Mrs. Bean on the way back, as the best of wo men. But even then be never hinted that Mrs. Bean was his mother ; and the first and last acknowledg nent of the fact that I ever had from him was in his last will, wherein he entreated " his said dear friend and executor" to observe that he request ed to be buried beside his mother whom he didn't even name, he was so perfectly confident that I had detected Mrs. Bean. I was once acquainted with another man who smuggled a brother. This contraband relative made mysterious appearances and disappearances, and knew strange things. He was called John sim ply Juhn. 1 have got into a habit of be lieving that he must have been under a penalty to forfeit some weekly allowance if be ever claimed a surname. He came to light in this way : I wanted some information respecting the remotest of the Himalaya range of mountains, and I ap plied to my friend Benting (a member of the tieographical Society, and learned on such points) to advise me. After some consideration, Benting said, in a half re luctant and constrained way, very unlike his usual Hank manner, that " he thought be knew a man" who could tell me, of bis own experience, what I wanted to learn. An appointment was made for a certain evening at Beating's house. I arrived first, and had not observed for moro than five minutes that Benting was under a cu rious cloud, when his servant announced in a hushed, and I may say unearthly manner " Mr. John." A rather sti J and shabby person appeared, who called Bent ing by no name whatever, (a Singularity that 1 always observed whenever 1 saw them together afterwards,) and whose manner was curiously divided between familiarity and distance. I found this man to have been all over the Indies, and to possess an extraordinary fund of travel er s experience. It came from him dnlv at firsb; but he warmed, and it flowed freely until he happened to meet Benting's eye. Then, ne subsided again, and (it ap peared to me, ) felt lumselt, for some ua known reason, In danger of losing that weekly allowance. Tuis happened a do zen of times in a couple of hours, and not the least curious part of the matter was, that Benting himself was always as much disconcerted as the other man. It did not occur to me that night, that this was Benting's brother, for I had known him very well for years, and had always understood him to have none. Neither can I now recall, nor, if I could, would it matter, by what degrees and stages I arrived at the knowledge. However this may be, I knew it. But we always preserved the fiction that I could have no suspicion that there was any sort of kindred or affinity between them. He went to Mexico, this John and he went to Australia and he went to China and he died somewhere in Persia and one day; when we went down to dinner at Benting's I would find him in the dining-room, already seated, (as if he had just been counting the allowance on in the tropica ; but I never knew whether he had ever done anything wrong, or whether he had ever done anything right, or why he went about the world, or how. As I have already signified, I get into habits of believing ; and I have got into A habit of believing that Mr. John had something to do with the dip of the magnetic needle he is all vague and shadowy to me, however, and I oniy know him for certain to have been a smuggled relation. Other people, again, put these contraband commodities entirely away from the i: i -f " - j i. bury tubs. 1 have heard of a man who never imparted, to his most intimate friend, the terrific secret tbat he had a relation in the world, exoept when he lost one by death ; and then he would be weighed down by the greatness of the calamity, and would refer to bis bereavement as if he had lost the very shadow of himself, from whom he had never been separated since the days of infancy Within my experience, I have observed smuggled relations to possess a wonderful quality of coming out when they die. My own dear Tom, who married my fourth sister, and who is a great smuggler, never fails to speak to me of one of his relations newly deceased, as though, instead of never having in the remotest way alluded to tbat relative s existence before, he had been perpetually discoursing of it. , "My poor, dear, darling Emmy," he said' to me, within these six months, "she is gone I have lost her." Never until that moment had Tom breathed one syllable to me of the existence of any Emmy whomsoever, on the face of this earth, in whom he had the smallest interest.' -He had scarcely allowed me to understand, very distinctly and generally, that he had some relations" people" he called 4hem down in Yorkshire. " My own dear, darling Emmy," says Tom, not withstanding, ' she has left me for a bet ter world." (Tom must have left her for bis own world, at least fifteen Years.) repeated, feeling my way, " Emmy, Tom?" " My favorite niece," said Tom, in a re proachful tone, "Emmy yon know. I was ber godfather, you remember. Darling, fair-haired Emmy I ' Pieoious, blue-eyed child I" Tom burst into tears, and we both tnderstood that henceforth the fiction was established between us, I that bad been quite familiar with Emmy, by reputation, through a series of years. - ' Oocisionally, smuggled relations are discovered by accident; jrtst as those tube may be, to which I have referred. My Other li!f--I mean, of eonrse, my wife - V once discovered a large cargo in this way, wbioh had been long concealed.' , In the next street to us, lived an acquaintance of ours, who was a Commissioner of something or other, and kept a handsome establishment. We used to exchange dinners, and I have frequently heard him at bis own table mention his father as a " poor, good, old boy," who had been dead for any indefinite period. He was rather fond of telling anecdotes of his very early days, and from them it appeared he was an only child. One summer afternoon, my other half, walking in our immediate neighborhood, happened to perceive Mrs. Commissioner's last year's bonnet, (to every inch of which, it is unnecessary to add, she could have sworn,) going along before her on somebody else's bead. Having heard generally of the swell mob, my good lady's first impression waa, that the wearer of this bonnet, belong to that fraternity," had just abstracted the bonnet from its place of repose, was in every sense of the term walk ing off with it, and ought to be given into the custody of the nearest policeman. Fortunately, however, my Susannah, who is not distinguished by closeness of reason ing or presence of mind, reflected, as it were by a flash of inspiration, that the bonnet might have been given away. Curious to see to whom, she quickened her steps, and descried beneath it, an ancient lady of an iron-bound presence, in whom (for my Susannah has an eye) she instantly recognised the lineaments of the Commissioner 1 Eagerly pursuing this discovery, she, that very alternoon, tracked down an ancient gentleman in one of the Commissioner's hats. Next day she came upon the trail of our stony maidens, decorated with artifi cial flowers out of the Commissioner's epergue ; and thus we dug up the Commissioner's father and mother and four sisters, who had been for some years secreted in lodgings round the corner, and never en tered the Commissioner s house save in the 'dawn of morning and the shades of evening, t torn that time forth, whenever my Susannah made a call at the Commissioner's, she always listened on the door step for any slight preliminary scuffling in the ball, and, bearing it, was delighted to remark, " The family are here, and they are hiding them 1" I have never been personally acquainted with any gentleman who kept his mother- in-law in the kitchen, in the useful capacity of cook ; but I have heard of such a case on good authority. I once lodged in the house of a genteel lady claiming to be a widow, who had four pretty children, and might occasionally be heard coercing an obscure man in a sleeved waistcoat, who appeared to be confined in some pit below the foundations of the house, where he was condemned always to be cleaningknives. One day, the smallest of the children crept into my room, said, pointing downward with a chubby finger, " Don't tell I It's Pdkl" and vanished on tiptoe. One other branch of the smuggling trade demands a word ot mention before i con' elude. My friend of friends in my bache lor days, became the friend of the house when I got married. He is our Amelia s godfather ; Amelia being the eldest of our cherubs. Through upwards of ten years he was backwards and forwards at our house three or four times a week, and al ways found his knife and fork ready for him. What was my astonishment on coming home one day to find Susannah sunk upon the oil-cloth in the hall, holding her brow with both hands, and my gaze, when I admitted myself with my latch-key, in a distracted manner, "Susannah," I exclaimed, " what has has happened ?" She merely ejaculated, "Larver" that being the name of the friend in question. " Susannah I" said I, " what of Larver ? Speak I Has he met with any accident ? Is he ill?" Susannah replied faintly, " Married married before we were I" and would have gone into hysterics, but that I make a rule of never permitting that disorder under my roof. For upwards of ten years, my bosom friend Larver, in close communication with me every day, had smuggled a wife ? He had at last confided the truth to Susannah, anl presented Mrs. Larver. There was no kind of reason for this, that we could ever find cut. Even Susannah had not a doubt of things being all correct. He had "run" Mrs. Larver into a little cottage in Hertfordshire, and nobody ever knew why, or ever will know. In fact, I believe there was no why in it. -1 The most astonishing part of the matter is, that I have known other men do exaolly the same thing. I could give the names of a dozen in a footnote, if 1 thought it right. Household Wordt. To trb PotHT. We have never seen scriptural quotations more aptly applied than in the following dialogue, which took place at the table of Bishop Doane : It is stated that Bishop Doane, of New-Jersey, is strongly opposed to Temperance. A short time since, Rev. Mr. Perkins, of the same denomination, and a member of the " Sons," dined with the Bishop, who, poarinor out a glass of wine, desired the Reverend gentlemau to drink with him, whereupon he replied : . " Can't do it, Bishop, wine is a mocker." " Take a glass of brandy, then," said the distinguished ecclesiastic . - " Can't do it, Bishop, strong drink' is raging.": . By this time the Bishop, becoming somewhat restive and excited, said to Mr. Perkins:. . ;....., You'll pass the decanter to the gentleman next to you." " No, Bishop, I can't do that, wot unto him that putteth the bottle to hit neighbor's lips." , , What was the peculiar mental condition or moral state of the Bishop at this stage of the proceedings our informant did not state. . . .. i i We no longer give credit to our American brethren for attaching no importanoe to name, for they have selected as one of their ambassadors an individual who has been evidently chosen because his name clearly represents the exact idea of diplomacy. America can never echo the inquiry " Wbat'a in a name?" without being liable to be reminded that the sent to Spain at a diplomatist no other than General Dddga.-iincA. A flucoeiaful Merchant's Experienoe. A communication in the Country Gentleman hat a word in season for these young men who hanker after tickets in the great lottery of mercantile life : " I am a city merohant, having commenced my career as an adventurer from the farm, on a salary of $80 per year, and having pussed through half a life time of incessant toil to reach the poiut where dependence ceases, and ' dinner ahead' begins. I filled clerkships in several first class mercantile houses, and was associated with a very considerable number of salesmen, accountants, and clerks generally. Near thirty years have passed since my city clerkship began, and retrospect has developed the following results : " All the mercantile houses by whom I was employed have since failed one, after an eminently creditable career of fifteen years, was carried into hopelessbankruptcy- by outside speculation, and another, after thirty-five years of undoubted success and credit, was, a few months since, involved in inextricable difficulties the results of a single dash of the pen and nas torever closed us mercantile existence " Of all the clerks with whom I have been associated, not one has achieved per' manent success equal to the value of t well-stocked 100 acre farm, while from the most brilliant of their number, the peniten tiary, the hospital, and the drunkard's grave, have claimed their victims. Some embarked in business with lofty anticipa lions ot success, Dut toon passed away in ster, and the career of not a few would fill thrillingly illustrated chapters in the unwritten history of city merchant a clerks, and prove beyond question, tbat ' Vice is a monster of such frightful mien, That to be hated, need but to be seen ; But seen too oft, familiar with its face,' We first endure, then pity, then embrace.' " Some sanguine youth may ask where the successful men originate 7 I answer. they are the one in one hundred of those who embark in business, and the one in several hundreds of those who seek clerk ships, with bright anticipations of fortune in prospect. " Personally, by a rare combination of favorable circumstances, those 'wonder flowers that bloom but once in a life-time,' i am meeting wuu wnat is called success. The way to it was paved by years of in cessant labor, of sixteen to eighteen hours per day, and such days and nights of toil as no farmer's man or boy that I have met with ever dreamed of in his rural labors, and which if applied to the cultivation of a 100 acre farm, would have developed hid den treasures not dreamed of by the re' luctant plowman. " Uut as years pass, and develop, along with the vanities of life, the gray hairs wnica are auiauug upon me, my tnougnts often revert to the home scenes of my childhood in .the country, and I feel tempt- eu to snaae oninis artificial me, and seek for my declining years that repose and quiet which I imagine might be found in rural life, among an intelligent and open-hearted population, devoted to agriculture ; and secure to ray family those health-giving influences, both mutual and physical, which cheerful country life must supply to genial minds." " Don't Spkak so Cross 1"" Don't speak so cross," said one little boy yesterday in the street to another. " Don't speak so cross, there's no use in it." We happened to be passing at the time, and hearing the injunction, or rather exhortation, for it was made in a hortatory manner, we set the juvenile speaker down as an embryo philosopher. In sooth, touching the point involved in the boyish difficulty which made occasion for the remark, he might be considered at maturity. What more could Solomon have said on the occasion ? True, he has put it on record that " a soft answer turneth away wrath," and this being taken as true, and everybody knows it to be so it is evidence in favor of the superiority of the law of kindness over that of wrath. But our young street philosopher said pretty much the same thing substantially, when he said, " Don't speak so cross there's no use in it." On the contrary, itinvariably does much harm. Is a man angry ? it inflames his ire still rdore, and confirms in his enmity him who by a kind word and a gentle and pleasing demeanor might be converted into a friend. It is in fact an addition of fuel to the fhme already kindled. And what do you gain by it? Nothing desirable, certainly, unless discord, strife, contention, haired, malice, and all uncharitableness, be desirable. The boy Bpake the " words of truth and soberness," when he said, " Don't speak so cross there s no use in it. Taa Wit it was Doni. The ease with which Governments become possessed of the secret movements of conspirators and revolutionists, is illustrated by the late abortive Cuban expedition. The N. Y. Btrall, in referring to this subject, relates the following: , " A spy was appointed by the Administration to ferret out the plot. He came to New-York ha worked himself, like a first rate ' confidence man,' into the secrets of the Junta he became a member of the " Lone Star ;" and, with this card of admission, he proceeded to the affiilia-ted Creoles in Cuba, obtained all the information he desired, and thence returning to Washington he disclosed everything to the Government. Marcy, at in duty bound, thereupon invited the Spanish Minister to dinner, and told bim all he knew, if not more, over the cake and wine at the end of the feast. The Spanish Minister, of course, lost no time in apprising Gen. Concha of these important disclosures. The bloody executions which followed, and the complete dispersion of the conspirators, tell the rest of the story. E9" A preacher in no matter where- observed, one day, that a striking proof of the wisdom and benevolence of frovidenoe was given in plaoing death at the end of life thus giving one time for preparation. Thit was almost as profound a remark as that of another person, who thought " it was lucky that Sunday was placed at the end of the week, instead of in the middle, whiob, would have made iroien trw There! Hero! Yonder! BT M. LOUISA 0HITWO0O. There! Back again ! Years have 'shrunken away into nothing but a misty f J T T I- At . ' arenm. id is oununy jnoraing in may,- All the orchards are snowy with bloom, all the dells blue with violets, all the meadows yellow with buttercups. Thrushes, and robins, and larks are singing, and all the blue waves of ether seem tremulous with song. And my heart, ab, it is singing also, life is so good, so blessed a boon. The church bell commences ringing. Out on the highway, from all the homes tbat are nestled away in the pleasant country, come the neighbors.fand turn their faces toward the old church, for 4 new minister is come, and all are anxious to be present. I am not thinltino muah of .thn'mVnniTnr' . 0 , v. the preacher, but as I open the gate and walk down the green lane, I keep thinking to myself, " Nelly will be there, I shall see Nelly." That is it. That is why the wodd looks so gloriously this bright morning. That is why my heart throbs a music, a rapture that only boyhood can feel, o to be a man I To go forth into the wide world and win a name and wealth, and then come back and marry Nelly. Yes, Nelly, the very little girl that goes to school with me every dav. To have a dear home, and her for a little wife ; and then I wonder dreamily how she will look with sober dresses and curls put back, and a subdued smile upon her darling face, and a de p tenderness in her voice, unlike its merry childhood flow, but oh I so very, very sweet. To have her the best and most beautiful being in the world her love ; to have her think of me when away, and smile at my return, to sing to me, read to me, lean her velvet cheek agaiust my own, let her golden-brown curls float upon my shoulder, with no cross school-teacher to frown her away, no lynx-eyed school-girls to tease, no omnipresent chums to haunt our every step, and telegraph the exchange of every look or smile, or rosebud, or strawberry, or rosy peach, or violet plum, or luscious golden apple, or cluster of blue grapes sweetened by frost kisses ; but to have a right to protect her, and love her, and be by her side always ; oh I what an Eden, what rapture in the dretm. So I keep thinking, and planning, and picturing, until I get to the church door and hear the singing of a sweet hymn. I pause a moment, and then enter and seat myself, ah I I know where. The pew just opposite her. There she is, ber little straw bonnet, with its fresh blue ribbons, her golden hair clustering on her neck, her large eyes bent upon the little Bible in her hands. There she is in her plain white dress, its short sleeves looped up with rosebuds, and her little hands resting about that Bible. Thftt is Nelly that I am going to marry 1 O to be a man, to win sweet Nelly. Time flies too slowly ; weary years, will ye never pass 7 Here 1 Locks mixed with gray I Early friends gone ; early hopes perishing as dewdrops ; early years living only in mem ory. Wealth mine, but it brings no balm ; fame, but its laurels are nettles ; a home, but no neace brooding over its costlv cham bers, i A marriage vow spoken, but its ties more galling than chains ; hands united, but. hearts estranged, divorced. Sons to whom their father's wealth is ruin, who bring sorrow and disgrace to home and hearth ; daughters whose hearts are moth-eaten and corrupted, poisoned by fashion and folly. Is it so, or do I dream ? Is the old homestead fallen, its walls crumbled ? Is Nelly dead ? Has the slept in the country churchyard so many years ? Have the grasses, brightened and browned upon her breast so long ? Are those lips dust, those brown locks crumbled to clay ? Yes, it is true. The stone at her head is moss-grown. Her lit' la sister, " baby Mary," as we used to call her, has fair daughters and sons of her own grown up to manhood and womanhood. In that old church was Nelly's funeral preached. Just by the pulpit ber plain eomn rested. Down the broad aisle, and through the western door was she carried upon the crape-tied bier. Close by the aspen tree she was buried. Sweet, dear Nelly ; life was ne-1 ver dark for her.' The angela called her to a better home than I could have made her. The long golden-brown curl she gave me at parting has grown stiff and dusty. 1 was looking upon it yesterday, and it slipped through my fingers and fell right into the sunshine. The light that rested upon it was full and radiant, aud its brightness was almost dazzling. I wonder do her tresses shine so up yonder ? Yonder I Ureen pastures and peaceful waters. O, Nelly, would that I too had gone home early I But years glide away ; life is shorter, the grave nearer. Tie after lie unloosens ; hope after hope grows away from earth and fastens itself toneaven. I shall soon be yonder I Oeniut of th Witt. Torjcatso Seine. The following is certainly the most touching moonlight scene we ever read : After whirling some time in the eestatic mazes of a delightful waltz, Caroline and myself stepped out unobserved, on to the balcony, to enjoy a few momenta of the solitude ao precious to lovers. It was a glorious night the air was cool and refreshing. As I gated on the beautiful being by my side, I thought 1 never saw her look so lovely ; one of her soft, fair hands, rested in mine, and ever and anon she met my ardent gaze with one of pure, confiding love. Suddenly a change came over her toft feature! j her full, red lip trembled at with tuppressed emotion ; tear-drops rested on ber long, drooping lashet ; the muscles around her faultless mouth became convulsed, she gasped for breath and snatching her hand from the toft pressure of my own, she turned suddenly away, buried her face in her fine cambric handkerchief, and amino. IT The Hotmet County Farmer man baa the following : '" ' " Pijuntsi Rxoitno." Hugging a blue eyed girl on a pile of freshly cut clover. Go wty, ttrswberri''', yoi have 21 grilling jfnefotut Cross eyed Hancy Hart. The following, from Mrs. Ellet't " Wo' men of the Revolution," will be read with Interest : In Elbert County, Georgia, is a stream formerly known aa War-woman'a Creek, Its name wat derived from the character of the woman who lived near the entrance of the stream into the river. This woman was Nancy Hart, a woman ignorant of letters and the civilities of life, but a zealous lover of " liberty boys,." as she called the whigs. She had a husband, whom she denominated a " poor stick," because he i-1 . . i . j .. .i . j , . i. uiu not mar b ueciucu aim hcuvu pan wuu the defenders of his country, although she could, not conscientiously charge lum-witb the least partiality towards the lories. This vulgar and illiterate, but hospitable and valorous female patriot, could boast of no share of beauty a fact she herself would have readily acknowledged, had she ever enjoyed an opportunity of looking in a mirror. Sue was cross-eyed, with broad angular mouth, ungainly in figure, rude in speech, and awkward in manners, but having a woman's heart for her friends, and that of a Catrine Monloar lor the ene mies of her country. She was well known to the tones, who stood in fear of her re venge for any grievance or aggressive act though they let pass no opportunity ol wor rying and annoying her, when they could do so with impunity. On the occasion of an excursion from the British camp at Augusta, a party of to nes penetrated into the interior, and ha v. ing savagely murdered Colonel Dooly, in bed, in his own house, they proceeded up the country for the purpose of committing further atrocities. (Jn their way, a de tachment of five of the party diverged to the east, and crossed Broad River, to make discoveries about the neighborhood, and pay a visit to their old acquaintance, Nan cy Mart. Un reaching ber cabin, they entered it unceremoniously, receiving from her no welcome but a scowl ; and informed her they had come to know the truth of a story current, respecting her, that she bad secreted a noted rebel trom a company of King s men, who were pursuing him, and who, but for her aid, would have caught and hung him. Nancy undoubtedly avow ed her agency in the fugitive's escape. she told them she had at brst beard the tramp of a horse rapidly approaching, aod had seen a horseman coming towards her cabin. As he came nearer, she knew him to be a whig, and flying from pursuit. She let down the bars, afew steps from her cabin, and motioned him to enter, to pass through both doors, front and rear, of her single-roomed bouse, take the swamp, and secure himself as well as he could. She then put up the bars, entered her cabin, closed the doors, and went about her business. Presently some tones rode up to the bars and called out boisterously to her. She muffled her head and face, and opening the door inquired why they disturbed a sick, lone woman. They said they had traced a man they wanted to catch, near her house, and asked if any one on horseback had passed that way. She answered no, but said she saw somebody on a sorrel horse turn out of the path into the woods some two or three hundred yards back. " That must be the fellow," said the lories ; and asking the direction as to the way he took, they turned about and went off. " Well fooled 1" said Nancy ; " in an opposite course to that of my whig boy ; when, if they had not been solofty-minded, but had looked on the gronnd inside of the bars, they would have seen his horse's track up to that door, as plain as you can see the tracks on this here floor, and out of t'other door down the path to the swamp." This bold story did not please the tory party, but they could not wreak their vengeance upon the woman who had unscrupulously avowed her daring aid to a rebel, and the cheat put upon his pursuers, oth erwise than by ordering her to aid and comfort them by giving them something to eat. She replied: "I never feed King's men if I can help it ; villains have put it out of my power to feed even my own fam ily and friends, by stealing and killing all my poultry and pigs, except that one old gobbler you see in the yard." " Well, and that you thall cook for us," said ono who appeared to be the head of the party ; and raising his musket he shot down the turkey, which another ot the men brought into the house and handed to Mrs. Hart, to clean and cook without delay. She stormed and ewore for Nancy occa sionally swore but seeming at lust to make a merit of neoeesuy, began with alacnty the arrangements for cooking, assisted by ber daughter, a little girl some ten or twelve years old, and sometimes by one of the soldiers, with whom she seemed in tol erable good humor, exchanging rude jests with him. The lories, pleased with her freedom, invited her to partake of the liq nor they had brought with them, an invi tation which was accepted with witty tbankt. The spring, of which every settlement had one near at hand, was just at the edge of the swamp, and within a short distance of it was a high and snaggy-topped stump, on which was placed a conch abell. The rude trumpet waa used by the family to give information, by means of a variation of notes, to Mr. Hart or his neighbors, who might be at work in a field just beyond the swamp, that " Britishers" or tories were about ; that the master was wanted at the Cabin, or that he was to keep close, or " make tracks" for another twamn. Pending the operation of cooking, Mrs. Hart bad tent ber daughter, Sukey, to the spring forwaier, with instructions to blow the eonch In tucb wty at would inform Mr. Hart that there were tories in tht eabin, and that he should "keep elote," with hit three neighbors who were with him, till he heard the eonch again. , t The party had become merry over their jug, and aat down to feast upon the gob bler, iney bad cautiously stacked tbeir arms where tbey were to view, and within reach, and Mrs. Hart, assiduous in her attention upon the table, and to ber gusU, occasionally passed betwoon iert, aH tir to contrived that Snkey waa again tent to the apricg, instructed by her mother to blow the ooneh m at to call up Mr. Hart and hit neighbor! immediately. Meanwhile, Mrt. Hart had slipped out one of the pieces of pine which constituted the "chinking" between the logs of the cabin, and had dexterously put out of the house, through the space, two of the five guns. She wat detected in the act of putting out tht third. The party sprang to tbeir feet. Quick aa thought, Mrt. Hart brought the piece the held to her shoulder, and declared she wo'd kill the first man who approached her. Ail were terror struck, for Nancy's obliquity of tight caused each one to suppose ber aim was at him. At length one of them made a motion to advance upon ber. True to ber threat, she fired. He fell dead upon the floor 1 Instantly seizing another muhtett'ishe brought, it to the position in readiness to fire again. By this time Sukey had returned from the spring, and taking up the remaining gun, carried it out of the house, saying to her mother, " Daddy and them will toon be here." Thit information increased the alarm of the lories, who understood the necessity of recover ing tbeir arms immediately, cut eacu hesitated, in the confident belief that Mrs. Hart had one eye at least upon bim for a mark. Tbey proposed a general rush. No time was to be lost by the bold woman; she fired again, and brought down another tory. Sukey had another musket in readiness, which her mother took, and posting herself in the door-way, called upon the party to " surrender their tory carcasses to a whig woman." They agreed to surrender, and proposed to "shake hands upon the strength of it ; but the conqueror kept them in tbeir places for a few moments, till her husband and hit neighbors came np to the door,- They were about to shoot down the tones, but Jure. Hart stobped them, saying they had sur rendered to ber, and her spirit being up to boiling beat, she swore that " shooting wat too good for them." This hint was enough. The dead men , were dragged out of the bouse, and the others were bound, taken out beyond the bars, and hung. The tree upon which they were hung was pointed out in 1838, by one who lived in those bloody times, and who also showed the spot once occupied by Mrs. Hart's cabin, accompanying the designation with the emphatic remark, " Poor Nancy -the was the honey of a patriot, but the devil of a wife." Importance of Thoroughness. Thoroughness thoroughness and again. I say thoroughness is the seeret of suc cess, xou beard some admirable remarks this morning from a gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Sears,) in which he told us that a child, in learning a single lesson, might get not only an idea of the subject matter of that lesson, but an idea how all lessons should be learned, a general idea, notonly how that subject should be studied. but how all subjects should be studied. A child, in compassing the simplest sub ject, may get an idea of perfectness whi:h is the type, or archetype, ot all excellence. and this idea may modiiy the action ot bit mind through his whole course of life. Be thorough, Cherefore, be complete-in everything you do ; leave no enemy in ambush behind you as you march on, to rise up in the rear and assail you. Leave no broken link in the chain you are daily forging. Perfect your work so that when it is subjected to the trials and experience of life it will not be found wanting. It was within the past year that l saw an account in the public papers of a terrible gale in one of the harbors of the Chinese seat. It was one of those typhoons, as they are called, which lay prostrate not only the productions of nature, but the structures of man. In this harbor was lying at anchor the vessels of all nations, and among them the United States sloop of war, Plymouth. Every vessel broke its cable but one. The tornado tossed them about, and dashed them against each other, and broke them like egg shells. Bat amidst this scene of destruction, our government vessel held fi . to its moorings, and escaped unharmed. Who made the links of that cable, that the strength of the tempest could not rend ? Who mads the links of that cable, that the tempest could not rend f Who was the workman, that worked under oath, and whose work saved property and human life from ruin, otherwise inevitable? Could that workman have beheld , that spectacle, and heard the raging of the elements, and seen the other vessels aa they were dashed to pieces, and scattered abroad, while the violence of tht tempest wreaked itself upon his own work, in vain, would he not have had the amplest and purest reward for the fidelity of bis labor ? So, in after periods of our existence, whether it be in this world, or from another world, from which you may be permitted to look back, you may see the consequences of your instruction r.pon the children whom you have trained. In the crisis of business life, where intellectual accuracy leads to immense good, and intellectual mistakes to immense loss, you may see yonr pupils distinguishing between error and truth, between false reasoning and sound reasoning, leading all who may rely upon them to correct retultt establishing tne highest reputation for themselves, and . for you at well aa themselves, and confer ring incalculable good upon the community. So, if you have been successful in your moral training, you will have prepared to stand unshaken and nnseduoed amidst temptation, firm where others are swept away, incorrupt where others are depraved, unconsumed where others art blasted and perished. You may be able to tay that, by the blessing of God, you have helped to do this . thing. And will not tuch a day be day of more exalted and sublime joy than if von eould have looked upoti the storm in the eastern test; and known that it it your handiwork that saved the vessel unharmed amid the wrecks that floated around it ? Would not such tight be a reward great and grand enough to satisfy and hit up any heart, mortal or immortal HORACE MANN. U 'rTo.tf